surprised by snow

Well, not real snow. 

I've seen these sweet snowy jars all over and decided I needed to make some.

I love jars anyway, and candles too.

I got my supplies, set it all up, and was done in five minutes or less.

Just that easy. 

Paint the jars generously with Decopage. Place epsom salts in a pie tin and roll

the jars in the salt until covered. Let dry for up to a day.

Decorate with twine and whatever you have to add to the twine.

I wasn't totally happy with what I used, but it was what I had on hand.

Put in a little tea light and it makes a great decoration or hostess gift, etc.

Just know you don't want to handle it too much as it will shed a little snow!

I'll show you more of how I used them on a table later this week.

Joining Judith's Monday Mosaics.

From both sides

I've had these window views to share from our visit to

Germany this past summer so thought I should post them before they get too old.

Nothing to do with this season, but I do love windows, looking in or looking out.

One of Munich's most beloved oddities is the "Glockenspiel", or carillon. 
If you notice the books in the foreground you see that I've taken this 
picture from inside a huge bookstore on the city square. 

It was five o' clock and the players had come out to play (see top of tower).

November Means Gratitude

 November did not exactly fly by as I recovered from surgery.

Six hours a day lying down and using a knee bending machine allowed 

me to look up and out and watch the leaves slowly change color.

November has been a mix of physical therapy and trying to 

get back to normal living, or my "new normal" for
now. The Gardener helped me haul Christmas out

of the attic and it was actually fun to  s l o w l y 

decorate together. I'm happy to be going to church, book club, 

and even one big box store with my cane in use and the Gardener in tow.

It's so good to have time with the grandchildren again and

watch their sweet wonder as Christmas unfolds.

The bushes are heavy with red berries which can mean--if they are holly, per
an old wives' tale--that we have a big winter ahead. I wonder if its the
 same for this Nandina bush so heavy with fruit.
The Gardener has been preparing lots of firewood for us.

There is much to be grateful for this month, and not only because

it includes a holiday to be thankful.

My heart is filled with gratitude.

I'm joining with Cheryl's Gathering the Moments
and Judith's Mosaic Monday.

Coming Home

It almost felt like coming home. Well, at least "home to Mitford." It had been a long time, 

so reading Jan Karon's new book (Somewhere Safe With Somebody Good)

felt like catching up on old friends (characters) in a small town 

we'd come to love years ago. There had been a break in Karon's books about Father Tim, 

his wife Cynthia and the town of Mitford, but when we heard a new book 

was coming, we knew we would do that for our book club. 

Maybe we love it because Mitford is based on a little mountain town

 (not quite fictional) in our state. Or maybe we love it because there is the enticement

 of community that draws us in, townspeople caring about each other.

Anyway we found ourselves gathered around a beautiful late fall table for a 

breakfast feast. Our hostess thought of every detail to bring appreciation 

and delight as we ate, drank tea, and talked about the book. 

Father Tim's favorite raisins, a map of Mitford, little take-home boxes of candy treats . . .

For those that know Mitford, yes that is Esther's orange marmalade cake.

We always like sharing quotes from her books and this is full of wonderful ones.

We talked about how Father Tim and Cynthia wrote each other love notes.

"Love letters are hard," Father Tim says. To which his wife replies,

"But that's what makes them good."

"No matter how far we travel, the memories will 

follow in the baggage car."

Joining Monday Mosaics.

Hugs from afar

It's easy to stay busy with life, responding to the urgent things that come along.

I used to be much better at writing notes or sending cards, keeping in touch,

but life seems to have changed a bit, and not entirely for the better.

So when I saw how friends cared for me after my knee surgery, 

it was a reminder to do better.

There is something so special about getting a card or package in the 

mail … especially when you're not feeling well. It's like a hug from afar.

My cousin sent me this amazing card she made. Wow, I looked and looked at it, and looked 

at it again, admiring her handiwork, being grateful for her words of encouragement.  

Even though there are no cats in my house, I loved it! 

I even heard from some blogging friends, sending a book or a card 

and cups of tea. I am so touched to be encouraged in this way.

 May I never forget this gentle lesson.

a season fades

Fall, leaves, fall, die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

Fluttering from the autumn tree

 ~Emily Bronte

Very soon the trees will be stripped bare of leaves 

and the green grass will be seen again. 

Amidst the bleakness of winter peeks out the cheery Pansies,

 always smiling, ready to perk up their heads no

matter how cold our winters may be.

Joining in Judith's Mosaic Monday.

color on my street

For years I'd rise at dawn and head outside for several miles of fast walking. I haven't been able to do that the past few years because of the arthritis in my knees, so it was a special pleasure the other day when I grabbed my cane and headed outside for a walk. I needed to look down to watch my strides, but my eyes kept being drawn up to the deep blue sky and the beauty of the trees.

Fall is finally in full swing and the leaves have changed color and are dropping and dancing on their way to the ground. My rose colored sunglasses made the leaves even more vibrant in color as
I soaked in all their glory around me. Granted my steps were slow and the soreness
and feeling of weakness reminded me of my recent surgery, but I was walking
without the arthritis pain. It was just as amazing as I heard it would be.

I continue to make progress and now will go to outpatient therapy.
That will be a whole new game and probably new ways to experience pain.
But I know in the end it will be so worth it.

along the way

My sister and I were driving at the beach near her house when we passed a familiar

looking house. We paused and looked --- all the rich foliage around the house was gone,

as were trees in the side yards. How different it looked. 

This "beach castle" holds a special memory for us as we had an extended-family 

vacation week there after a family wedding. 

It is such a beautiful, romantic place. 

The stairs were in the turret, the rooms filled with antiques, 

and it was old even back then. 

Joining Judith at Lavender Cottage for Monday Mosaics

two stories of generosity and not so much . . .

The day started out warm and humid with rain and threatening clouds. By the time we were on the train headed uptown the clouds had changed to bright sun. But then, as if a gift withdrawn, the wind and dark clouds furled again across the skies ... only to be replaced once more by sunshine, this time bringing cooler temperatures. Friends were taking us out to dine on a gift card they had received. So generous of them--they could have used the card three times themselves rather than sharing it with friends.

The meal was lovely, and my entree--a favorite Chicken Marsala--was perfect. I boxed up the remains, thinking about the mouth-watering second meal it would make. And now my story splits.

Story One: Walking on the train platform, we were approached by our second panhandler of the day. A quarter for some fast food? That wouldn't buy anything.

My box of food suddenly felt very heavy in my hands. Maybe I should give it to him. But I didn't, sitting it down on the bench next to me as we waited for our train. Once we hopped off the train back at our car, I suddenly realized the box wasn't with me. I had left it on the bench. Serves me right, I thought to myself. Quick lesson here ... and I breathed a silent prayer that panhandler friend would circle back and find the delicious meal and enjoy it for me, as he should have--if I'd been giving.

Story Two: Generous gift card friends headed home, stopping on the way to try and find a pecan pie for a church Thanksgiving dinner the next day. No pies to be found. Then they passed a fruit stand with a "Pecan Pie Sale" sign. Alas, it had just closed. Cash register sales tallied, all in process of being locked up for the day. 

They made an attempt anyway, but the answer was "no," even if cash was offered.  Walking back to the car, our friend noticed that the pie seller was walking after her beckoning her to come back.  "Here," she said,"Take a pie. No charge. Enjoy. They are to die for. You will love it."

the good, the bad, and the beautiful

I've often heard about the "good days" and the "bad days" when getting over surgery. I'm finding it to be true. One day upbeat, feeling strength and the next day thinking I can't get out of bed. Then there's what I call "T.Time." I'm not talking about drinking a cuppa, as much as I love that, but "T for Torture." That is, the exercises to get my new knee in sync with healing muscles, tendons and whatever else is in there, to enable me to walk normally again. Today was one of those bad days. Everything was hurting even before I began. The Gardener was ready to leave for church but had time to help me with the therapy. We had my phone nearby softly playing our Sunday morning music. 

The Gardener so patiently and tenderly helps me, keeping count for me, remembering the exercises I forget, and gently pushing beyond comfort as is the order of the day. Today I was a silly mess. It hurt so badly I burst into tears, feeling like I could go no further. Just then out of the blue, our wedding hymn started playing on the radio. "Praise My Soul the King of Heaven." Into my mind flashed a summer evening; I was walking up the church aisle, hanging onto my father's arm, looking ahead into the eyes of my beloved. I know today he was remembering too, as he gently
pushed me through the pain of the therapy. 

"In sickness or in health; for better or for worse." This was one point for the worse side, but it is what our promises were and are all about. The sunlight streaming in the window on a cold morning suddenly warmed me through and through, and my spirits rose.

gathering October

This past October seems a confusing month to me … at the beginning we were at the

end of a visit to family down further south, which included our annual

tradition of breakfast at the pier and time with our sweet great nieces and nephews.

Back home, we had our first mentor gathering with a new group

 of young women that we'll meet with for the next two years.

Then full-fledged preparations for surgery, and when all was ready, 

a colorful day in the mountains before my new knee got installed.

The last ten days are a bit of a blur as I recover from surgery.

We've enjoyed a last gathering of wonderful tomatoes,

an autumn surprise to grace our salads.

I look forward to next month when I'll be getting back to 

normal and we celebrate the giving of thanks.

Joining with Cheryl's Thinking About Home and her

Gathering the Moments Series.

something new

I have a new knee. It's something the Gardener and I talked and prayed about for a long time and then the time seemed right and the decision was made.  And for the past several months I've been preparing. Everything in my life has been impacted by the coming surgery. I had a long list of house projects--some since I retired from nursing that never got done, and I was determined to get most of them done. I knew it would be a long time before I would feel like washing windows or scrubbing baseboards or . . . so I needed to work on my list.  Check. Check. Check. The list dwindled.  I was nesting like a woman ready to deliver her baby. Finally I checked off the last thing and everything was ready. The Gardener and I took off for a day to enjoy the color in the mountains.

The week before surgery my fear intensified. I've heard many horror stories of the pain after a total knee replacement. My fear was mostly about how I would deal with the intense pain. (I'm not sure nurses always make the best patients.) The last time I was in the hospital  was in Africa, many years ago and it was a faith-stretching experience then, where God gave me peace in such a tangible way I could almost touch it. He did that again for me this time. I felt like I was floating in His love and warm arms. I was relaxed when the big day came.

My knee dressed up in ice and in its stretch machine.

I did not have general anesthesia but a spinal with "twilight." I remember getting the spinal. A man in scrubs held me firmly curled up like a ball to expose my back for the spinal stick. I remember saying, "Now I know how the babies felt." I'm sure they thought I was already "lulu" but I meant it. Many a time as a baby nurse I had to hold a wee one in such an awkward position as we did a spinal tap. And now I was experiencing it. I felt the stick, and the pressure, and thankfully nothing more.

A week later I'm doing well. I feel like I'm back in school when my physical therapist gives me a good score and applauds my hard work. The Gardener has been a wonderful caregiver and a strong taskmaster when he coaches me with my exercises and stretches my knee. That's when the  tears come. Such pain, but it is worth it as the   flexibility increases.  Recovery is busy -- nurse and PT visits, naps, six hours each day in the knee bending machine, icing, exercise,  E  T   C. . . But it is better than I thought it would be, and I am so, so grateful to be on this side of it and on the way to taking walks again and riding my bike. I'm thankful for blog friends who have checked on me. And I'm thankful for God's presence all along the way.

sky tricks

The Gardener and I decided to spend Saturday looking for color. The leaves

here have barely started to change so we headed for the mountains. It was cool and blustery 

with a variety of "color" depending on the kind of trees and the elevation.

(We do wish we had more maples here for their bright red hues.)

We never tire of seeing the gracefully winding roads

and the layers of the mountain range, always blue,

and always smokey––thus the names Blue Ridge and Smokey Mountains.

The sky played games the whole time.

From bright blue and sunny to dark and menacing blended with odd sunlight.

No rain, but dropping temperatures and lots of wind.

 When we got to 6000 feet, we were in the clouds and the trees

had shed their leaves and there was no view at all.

But it didn't take long to get down to sunshine and color again.

What a great day!

Joining with Judith's Monday Mosaics.

a tweak here and there

My sister and I have an "unwritten rule" when we visit each other's house. It's the "change around" rule--or better said, "invitation." An invite to move things around (probably not the furniture, that might require permission and help.) But anything else we see in each other's house that we think may need a little tweaking, we have permission to do just that.

The game is if it is noticed. (And it always is, we're such women of detail.) Sometimes there's a discussion, but often things are just left changed. This time she brought out a wedding gift vase which had probably always been in storage as it doesn't really fit with her decor.

But the color! So I found a spot for it. It's a smidge too tall for under the painting, but, I do love it's pop of color.

A little work on the book case, turning our grandmother's old novels on an angle and moving some photos, adding the fat green bird up top.

Now here's the deal: Now that I'm gone, are things now moved back to where they were?

I probably will never know, for next time I visit most likely I will have forgotten all about it!

This sweet dollie never got moved until I needed the chair

 (our grandfather's) for a few minutes. She kindly switched to the bed.

And this gorgeous big doll is always sitting here when 

we visit this favorite antique shop. 

She does change her outfit, but it's usually pink.

One last thing about my creative sister's house.

I've always been fascinated by her laminated (clear packing tape)

reminder signs that she keeps handy in a kitchen drawer.

She has embellished them with some of her stamps

and they truly are lovely to see sitting on the counter.

collage of color

Last week on our trip further south we saw a lot of color. 

Not fall color, but rather color of the tropics.

I am amazed at the gray that came out in the first set.

Oh how I love color.

Joining Judith's Mosaics on Monday.

stillness

 Donna speaks of telling stories with our still life photos.

All these "stills" were taken with my point and shoot during a recent visit to my sister's house.

I love this one because of the peek at the highchair in the corner.

Now quiet, but patiently waiting to be used by her grandchildren on their visits.

 I love that she keeps the vintage wallpaper up in the guest room. A shelf there is filled with

interesting old things, including this elegant little purse sitting so quietly now.

It begs questions from us that will never be answered, but we can guess.

The weddings, balls, banquets it may have been to . . . 

The corner cupboard filled with favorite things and family heirlooms.

Always a pleasure to view.

Joining Donna's Photo Challenge today, for the still life challenge.

weather change

Last night a breeze came up.

And today we woke to cool, clear, dry air.

 A change in the weather. Smiles abound.

Windows open,we hear the clink of dishes 

and chatter of voices from neighbor houses.

And before we know it, "color" will arrive.

"Everyone must take time to sit and watch the leaves turn." 

Elizabeth Lawrence

Joining Judith's Monday Mosaics.

Detoured

I love a quote from In His Everlasting Arms by Gail MacDonald: "Someone wisely said that a contented person is one who enjoys the scenery along the detour." Well said and certainly the life attitude I desire to live. I remember a busy time in my life when such detours would stress me. Delays I think of include long gas lines, traffic jams, an unending wait at the doctor's or anything else that does not fit into my scheme of how things should be. I remind myself to look at those delays as a gift of time. I try to have a small book along to read (which could be on my phone) or I spend the time working on my calendar, or thinking, or people watching, or praying.... And when I stop stressing about it, the wait transforms into an unexpected blessing.  I can even feel a little disappointment when the wait is over.